Blue On Red
by Yukann
Summary: Formerly YJ Drabbles, because I got sick of the name. This place is where I dump all my YJ drabbles. Mostly centers around Nightwing/DG/Robin. Chapters may not be exactly 100 words but I try to make it as close as possible. Latest Chapter: Dick thinks about family.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own YJ

Alone:

The dark, damp and cold basement was frightening. Cold chains clamped his arms and legs, forbidding escape. It had been a few days since he'd been captured and it felt like an eternity. What he wouldn't give for relief.

The door creaked open and light shone on the hero's face.

"Now little Birdy! Let's have some fun!"

The screams that rendered the air cut through the otherwise silent night.

(A dark, dark part of Nightwing resents the fact that the Justice League (Batman) hasn't come yet.)

-0-

Batman stood silently at the windows of the Watchtower, staring into the dark abyss.

Superman laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"We'll find him. I promise you


	2. Chapter 2

Eyes:

They were filled with hate, sorrow, resignation and an assortment of other different emotions. Most notably though, was the hate. It pierced deep into his soul and hurt. He deserved it anyway, getting his best friend killed. Wally; even the name left the bitter tang of regret on his tongue.

Nightwing - Dick, he reminds himself, wonders when he had become so much like his mentor, to sacrifice everything for the sake of the mission. Hadn't he vowed to not become Batman?

In a fit of self-directed rage, he punches the mirror; he couldn't stand looking into his own eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own YJ

A/N: Tried something different, hope y'all like it. Enjoy~

Protective:

Tim knows that Bruce is protective over him. And he knows that Dick is even more so. After the time when Dick had beaten the Joker to death when he thought said man had killed his little brother, Tim had finally seen a whole new side of the serious Nightwing, one he's not sure he ever wants to see again.

The Team don't know, haven't seen, that side of their all too calm-like-Yoda leader. So it stands to reason that when Tim told that story to Jaime, he'd scoffed and laughed it off, a He-won't-possibly-do-that look tossed at the masked boy.

Tim, however, _hates_ to be told that he's _wrong_, _especially_ when he's _right_. So it takes one mission against the Light, and Robin intentionally letting Deathstroke strike him across the middle and into the walls of the warehouse they were fighting in for the Team to finally get that he was right _damn it_.

"ROBIN!" Superboy, as well as others, yell in panic, a few others (Impulse) already rushing over to help him. Nightwing doesn't react, until he sees that his brother isn't getting up. And then, his muscles tense before he finishes off the guy he was fighting and heads straight for Deathstroke, sticks charged up with electricity to maximum efficiency (Pain).

In the end, it takes both Superboy and Wondergirl to pull him off the guy, and by that time, the villain was already an unrecognizable mess, the only indication that he was alive was the slight movement of his chest, although that was getting dangerously shallow.

By the wide-eyed looks being sent to their leader, Robin can guess tier thoughts, and they're not good at all. He should feel bad about showing this side of his brother to outsiders but all he feels is warm and fuzzy, secure in the fact that his brother indeed cares enough to kill a guy for him.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own YJ.

A/N: I have no idea where I'm coming up with these ideas… Someone help me! If any of you guys want to send me a prompt/idea/whatever, I'm open to them but it depends on whether I accept or not.

Safe:

He has always felt safe in Bruce's arms. The warmth that seeps through and envelopes him almost always manages to bring a contented smile on his face. His arms were soft, malleable, folding around him in gentle waves that threatened to drown him; Dick _loved_ it.

Batman's arms were slightly different, but no less warm. They were strong, tense, but still gentle, as if he was the most important thing in the man's world and Dick loved it no less.

But right now, they weren't. They were _cold_ and lifeless and _limp_. So unlike the _warmstronggentle _arms of before and he was scared, because BatmanBruce was not supposed to be like this. He was supposed to protect Dick from everything and anything bad. Why wasn't he moving?

The man with the large 'S' – Superman, but Dick was currently too shocked to fanboy – gazed at him with pitying eyes, so familiar yet so unwanted. He felt like he was back at the circus, his parents' cooling bodies lying broken on the ground and the people who were all looking at him with the same eyes.

Dick couldn't breathe, his mouth gasping for air, his teammates watching at the side lines quietly – why did they get their mentors back safely while he _didn't_?

Then, while Dick was still in his panicked state – almost a panic attack already- , with Superman and all the other mentors and his teammates all unwilling or unable to calm him down, a black, gloved hand reaches out and ruffles his hair; Dick calms immediately. Tired blue eyes that only he can see behind the cracked lens looked at him tiredly and he got the message. Silently, as his teammates marvelled at his change in demeanour, he takes out his phone (his _batphone_), and dials Agent A. It seems like it's time for Batman to go home.

Dick doesn't feel safe, not yet, but he was feeling secured and that was pretty damn close.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: Yeeeaaaahhhh… These just keep coming. No idea why. Haha~ Anyways, in this chapter, the batfam, with the exception of Dick, was transformed into three-year olds by some serum by some villain. Yeah. Hope you guys enjoy and please review to let me know what you guys think!

Baby-sitting:

"Damian! Get down from there!" Dick yelled in panic, his arms opening up wide below the youngest Bat, as if to catch him. His blue eyes were wide with terror at seeing his brother on the chandelier, reduced to a three-year-old and swinging wildly. An arrogant smirk tugged at the child's face.

"Hmph! I can take care of myself Grayson."

And another black-haired child poked his head from behind Dick's legs, his arms gripping tightly onto the blue jeans. "Dick?"

Cerulean eyes softened from the worried glare he'd given the one on the chandelier as he looked down. Tim Drake stood, looking up at his with an adorable pout on his also three-year-old face.

"Yes, Timmy?" A smile.

"Wanna go watch Peter Pan with me?" Tim asked, his eyes shining with plead, excitement written all over his face.

"Sure buddy! I think since Damian can 'take care of himself'; we can go watch that movie you want." Dick could never refuse Tim after all.

Damian glared at his enemy. The only reason he'd climbed the chandelier in the first place was because he wanted Dick's attention on _him_, not on Drake! With grumbled words, he slowly climbed down from the ceiling and made his way over to living room. Maybe he could coerce Grayson into making him a snack, since Pennyworth was out of town, visiting relatives he said.

Dick and Tim were just settling down when another raven-haired child fluttered into Dick's lap.

"Dickiebird! Let's go play a game!" Jason yelled out, exuberance etched onto his face. Tim sat at the young adult's side, a hand fisting his white shirt. Then, Damian made his appearance by attacking the man's hair, legs resting on his shoulders; hands grasping the thick, raven locks.

"Grayson, I demand that you make me a snack."

Jason gave a glare at the youngest while Tim grabbed Dick's shirt even tighter. Dick just smiled tiredly at all of them. A sigh made its way out of his mouth before he could help it.

"Why don't you three watch the movie while I make some food, then we can all go play outside, okay?"

The three children gave grudging nods, glaring at each other as if daring them to disagree. Dick gave a sigh of relief as the tension in the room was resolved.

"Dick, I need you to help me with some adjustments to the Batsuit."

A groan.

_Great_, Dick thought, _now even Bruce is fighting for my attention. But_, he continued, a fond look on his face, _it's not all bad._ Their sleeping faces a few hours later cemented that thought.

_I wouldn't trade them for the world._


	6. Chapter 6

Façade:

Summary:

Everyone almost always thought that Dick wore his heart on his sleeve, that if he was feeling _anything_, you'd _know_. They were wrong. How could he be a Bat by being so darn bad at concealing emotions? The answer: he wasn't.

Nightwing has always been one of the best at hiding emotions. Not your traditional blank face, but the cover-everything-up-with-a-smile veneer. And what made him so good at it was because he could summon up the feeling of happiness from inside him, even when he didn't want to smile. Insofar, no one except Batman had cotton on yet.

After the truth came out about Nightwing's deceit, everyone, with the exception of the Bats, had been mistrustful of him. It wasn't obvious, gods forbid that the Team was _ever_ obvious, but he had picked it up anyway. He was a Bat after all.

Then came the worst day of Dick's life; the day Wally died. He hadn't meant for this to happen, but he still felt responsible; the what if questions kept resounding in his head. He hadn't broken down then, he couldn't; he had to be the strong one, no matter how much he wanted to just kneel down and cry, all he could do was furrow his eyebrows and clench his fists. Maybe this was his punishment.

The Team had gathered in the living room of their temporary hideout, a sombre mood casted upon them. Artemis was hiccupping, her tears long since dried, and M'gann was hugging her, oozing comfort.

"Hey," Nightwing murmured to the archer, one hand comfortingly lying on her shoulder, "you alright?"

Red-rimmed eyes glanced at him before going back to the floor. "I'm fine. Go check on the others, I'm sure they need you."

The ex-robin nodded, gave a reassuring half smile to Artemis before starting to make his rounds.

Every hero was comforted by their leader, and the mood felt lighter after a few hours. When they all went home, no one noticed him slipping into Wally's old room, – kept pristine, clean and untouched throughout the years, even if the redhead had retired because Dick could never let go of his best friend – quietly ling on the bed after changing into Wally's old clothes (those he left here for emergencies).

The smell of Wally engulfed his senses and Nightwing could finally peel off the mask and become Dick Grayson again. Then, the tears started, silently making their way down his cheeks. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep so he can dream of Wally. It was the only way he could see his best friend again.

When the rest of the team went looking for him later in the afternoon, because he didn't show up for debrief, they would find him curled up in Wally's bed, dried tear tracks on his face, and sleeping peacefully. And they would wonder how they didn't see the grief that their leader has hidden so well.

Omake:

Batman silently swoops into the room after all the other heroes of the Team had left, scoops up the son he has failed to protect and swoops back out just as silently. And through it all, Robin is watching in the shadows. He was the one who alerted the Batman of Nightwing's breakdown. Because Robin could also see through masks; he wears one every day.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: I have no idea why these things keep on popping into my head. Wrote this at like 4am right after I tried to sleep. I'm still trying to get over the fact that my favourite story to write is my least popular. Meh. I write what I want. Anyways, enjoy~

Exhaustion:

Because Nightwing was tired, oh so tired of being avoided because of something he did to save the world. Why did he have to suffer under the accusing gazes of the Team when what he did ensured their continued existence? Without his plan, they would've been sitting ducks waiting for the Reach's plan to unfold and kill them all.

Nightwing didn't like this one bit. He'd put everything on line in order for them to not only have a fighting chance, but to be able to pull off a victory against the likes of The Light and Reach. He'd worked himself to the bone, tirelessly coordinating the Team, training them, doing missions as well as patrol Gotham. If he wasn't doing that, he was cramming for college; apparently, even with the oncoming threat of an alien invasion – not that they knew – exams still went on. He was lucky he even got an hour of sleep in between his hectic schedule.

Nobody, not even Robin or Batgirl knew what he'd done so far for the whole alien invasion business, especially after their mentors left them to deal with this alone.

The hero's fist hit the wall of his apartment in frustration. He was sick and tired of always having to put up with the why-didn't-you-trust-us looks he kept on getting whenever he was in the room.

Tonight, he thought as he flopped onto his bed, he would rest - a rare day off from patrol (Batgirl had noticed his eye bags and demanded he take a rest) - and tomorrow, it would be time to put on the mask to cover up everything. Maybe after this whole thing was over, Dick would take leave from the Team. Time away to rest, relax and just build himself back up again.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N:

As I said, I have no idea where all this is coming from. They just pop into my head at like some ungodly hour and bug me until I write, or in this case, type, them down. Yeah. Sadly, none of my other stories have this much inspiration.

Protective II:

When Robin found out that Deathstroke of all people was working for the Light, he'd nearly given himself an aneurism trying to hide it from Dick. Of course, hiding something of this magnitude was no easy task, especially from his big brother.

Nightwing has only ever hated four people: Tony Zucco, Blockbuster, Tarantula II and Deathstroke.

Said man had tried and almost succeed at converting Dick into a villain. If that didn't make Dick hate him, Tim didn't know what would. Not to mention the grievous wounds, cuts and bruises that decorated the hero's body after said incident.

Tim hated the man with a passion, for causing Dick to doubt himself, to actually dare to hurt his big brother. Well, that man had another thing coming if thought that he could get away with that.

Just thinking about the man got his blood boiling. So of course, to the man who caused Dick such distress, Tim had to take revenge.

So he plotted, and schemed, and generally just planned how his revenge would work.

Soon came the day when the Team would confront the Light and would finally defeat the enemy. As soon as the battle started, Tim skilfully maneuvered himself into fighting with said man.

Then, with a vindictive grin, he pulled out a syringe, one that causes pain and hallucinations, and stealthily jabbed it into the man while Tim blocked a strike with his Bo staff.

And when all was said and done, Tim felt that having a body cast for six months was too good a punishment. Maybe he should hack his account and donate all his money to charity. Plus, maybe upload photoshopped pictures of Deathstroke online, embarrassing photos.

All the plotting and planning and scheming had all borne fruit; vengeance was a dish best served cold after all. And when all Tim felt when he did all he could to cause pain to the one man whom had caused Dick almost as much hurt as when his parents died was a vindictive pleasure, he knew he'd do all that again in a heartbeat.

Because no one messed with his brother and got away with it, not even one of the most feared assassins in the world.


	9. Chapter 9

Pieces:

When his parents died, Dick wondered why God didn't take him too. Why did he survive and they didn't? The guilt was eating him alive, until he found the Batcave and became Robin. He found an outlet for his anger, the guilt, which was coursing through his veins, and for a while, Dick was okay with that. Even as a piece of his heart broke away and shattered, never to return.

When Tula died, the guilt that came with it wasn't as heavy as Dick remembered. It was dark, of course, but nothing like the all-consuming numbness that had plagued him when he first experienced a loved one's death for the first time. Maybe it's because he wasn't as close to her as he'd thought. Another piece, smaller than the first, was gone.

Then, Zatanna and Rocket left the Team to join the League, and took two pieces of his heart with them; two small, but just as important pieces with them.

Wally and Artemis left soon after, leaving him with Superboy, Miss Martian and Beastboy, who'd join a few days after Zatanna and Rocket had left. Wally took a large chunk with him and Artemis, a small one. Dick felt like he was drowning, Robin continued to fight to stop the nightmares.

When Bruce fired him, Dick was left with just one quarter of his heart left, throbbing painfully in his chest. He needed something other than Robin to overcome this. Robin held too many memories already. Dick became Nightwing.

Jason died. And Nightwing grieved. The guilt was back, crushing him. This time, only three tiny pieces were left.

When Tim came, Dick felt like his heart may actually gain back some of those pieces he lost, and he did, until he had his heart back to a quarter. He's never felt as happy as when he was with his little brother. _I _will_ be okay_, he thought, but sadly, good things never stay good and bad things always happen.

And then, Wally had to die. And the ginger had taken what was left of his heart with him, leaving Nightwing, an empty husk, behind. Of course, he would smile, he would laugh, he could put on a mask, but no one would ever see the bloody hole that was left in his chest.

And people wondered why Nightwing had chosen to fly solo. He just couldn't take the pain anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: Yes, I decided to AU depths too, except in drabble format. Hope you guys – though I don't actually have a lot of readers for this story.

Red:

His pale skin stood out amongst the black, mask covering his face. Black hair contrasted with his face, eyes closed and lips pale.

The blood pooling at his abdomen was already drying, browning flakes drifting onto the sand below.

Artemis was already on her knees, administering CPR, but to no avail.

And the crashing of the waves was the only sound that M'gann could hear, along with the faint buzzing of thoughts in her teammates' heads. Except for his. And never again would she be able to.

She would've wept, but she was too in shock to do so, her eyes stubbornly remain dry. Superboy beside her suddenly said, desperate desolation deeply embedded his voice, "I can't hear a heartbeat."

The words echoed in her head, even as Artemis pronounced Nightwing dead.

And her world shattered.


	11. Chapter 11

Red II (Silence):

It felt oppressive; the silence in the mountain. Superboy had the limp form of Dick within his strong embrace, almost unwilling to let his friend, his brother, go.

The rest of the members stared at the body hanging in his arms and most of them couldn't believe it.

Nightwing, their leader, one of the strongest if not the strongest hero on their team, dead, and by the hands of their ex-leader no less.

The blood that still stained his black uniform sickened many of the young heroes. They didn't want to see reality.

Robin, Tim, in particular, had stared, transfixed, at his brother for the longest time, face alternating between too many emotions to decipher.

Then silently, he stood up, matched towards the Zeta tubes and left. Batgirl followed soon after.

No one said anything for the rest of the night, even when Artemis took Nightwing out to be buried.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: Kind of dedicated to my friend who's just lost his mom. He doesn't know about this but I felt like doing this cause I'm kinda insensitive sometimes and this is the only way I can actually express myself properly.

Mother:

Sometimes, Dick thinks of the sweet smell of lavender and honey and reminisces about the happy memories he'd had when he still had his family intact, of his mom who loved lavenders and his dad who couldn't live without honey.

His mom's soft hands and loving murmurs as she teaches him how to bake, and her soft reprimands and gentle guidance as she taught him how to fly. _My little Robin._

The gigantic hole that his parents left in his soul can never fully heal; it's still there, bleeding and dripping _hurtpainsorow._ There is a reason why Dick holds his parents in such high regard, especially after he lost them at the tender age of eight.

The huge hole had been slowly scabbed over when Bruce took him in and gave him a new family, and when Jason joined and then Tim and the Team, the hole is still there but kind of not exist anymore if you get what he means (he never meant to forget the pain, it just happened and Dick doesn't know whether to feel guilty of happy).

Yes, Dick cannot help these thoughts and as he watches the Team monkey around, Robin, Tim, as he laughs and has fun, he thinks that his Mom would've loved them.


End file.
